


Overcoming

by adella_green



Category: Catch-22 - Joseph Heller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Medication, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27808318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adella_green/pseuds/adella_green
Summary: Modern AU where Yossarian came back from a war with PTSD and the chaplain now is a therapist (as caring as always)
Relationships: Robert Oliver Shipman | Albert Taylor Tappman/John Yossarian
Comments: 12
Kudos: 7





	1. Not your therapist

\- I would like to stress that I am not your therapist, I'm only substituting for Dr. McKenzie. Unfortunately, he fell ill this morning but didn't want to cancel your meeting so unexpectedly. Today, you are supposed to only take some tests, so I will be able to help with this. Are you okay with that, Mr. Yossarian?  
Yossarian wasn't exactly okay with this therapy situation in general so he hesitated to answer for some time. Finally, he nodded, hoping it would be enough.  
\- Great, - said Dr. Tappman, still with uncertainty. - Please take this sheet and check the most relatable answers. It won't take long.  
Yossarian swallowed a sigh and began the test. He'd already done a similar one at his anger management course and then they sent him here. He had an idea where else he could be sent next but still decided to be honest with his answers.  
Nightmares? Check. Panic attacks? Check. Hallucinations? No, thank God (if he, in fact, exists). But even if they were there, how could Yossarian tell? Anyway. Anxiety? Check. Problems with sex? Urgh.... Check.  
There was another test. And another. And another.  
Dr. Tappman was sitting quietly, watching. He definitely tried to look impersonal but failed as his eyes were glowing with kind concern. Such attention would usually make Yossarian tense but strangely, now it didn’t.  
At last, Yossarian was done with all these papers. He gave them back to Dr. Tappman who spent nearly a minute stacking the sheets into a neat pile.  
\- That’s it, - said the therapist. - Thank you for coming. Dr. McKenzie will contact you to arrange the next meeting.  
They said their goodbyes and Yossarian left.

Yossarian felt uncomfortable with taking pills for some reason. Maybe because he had to do it at the same exact time of day and keeping a schedule wasn’t his strong suit.  
Yet, they were effective in alleviating his anxiety and that was enough for a while. Therapy wasn’t going that well, however. Yossarian’s stubborn nature wouldn’t let him be open enough to share as well as follow all these little techniques designed to help with panic attacks and flashbacks. He still got them now and then.  
There was a surprising positive side to the therapy. Yossarian got to see Dr. Tappman every week Friday. They would come across each other at the hall and the doctor would always ask him how therapy was going. He did it with his usual soft care and that made Yossarian melt inside. He tried to question this in the beginning but it all came so natural he didn’t push the thoughts.  
He didn't feel this way with women for a long time. Up until recently he had tried his own kind of therapy - hooking up with random ladies for a night, but it didn't work and, worse luck, left him disgusted with himself.  
One of the things he grieved the most was his lost sense of humour, his cynical yet somewhat optimistic worldview. Now he just had to survive day by day, pill by pill. Suffocating.  
However, there were seconds when life would boil in him, moments before he would start to think he was dying. The flashbacks. The time machine of death.  
Sometimes he thought he was already dead. Sometimes it didn't matter at all.

Yet another Friday, Yossarian came to the therapist office. He immediately saw Dr. Tappman, drinking his coffee out of a paper cup and casually chatting with the receptionist. She actually was the first to welcome Yossarian, and he said hi in return. The doctor smiled and came closer to shake hands.  
\- Nice to see you again, Mr. Yossarian. How are you lately?  
Yossarian answered with something polite and general. All his attention was turned to the warmth of Dr. Tappman's voice and gaze. He couldn't help but quietly sigh with ill-disguised longing, but thankfully, the doctor didn't notice that.  
A woman walked into the hall and Dr. Tappman hastily said:  
\- Oh, this is my client. Sorry for that, I would really like to talk with you some more.  
\- That's okay, - said Yossarian.  
Thankfully, at this moment the door of Dr. McKenzie's office opened and the client that was there went out in the hall.  
\- I think it's my cue, - Yossarian bolted out although he knew perfectly well that McKenzie would first require a short break.  
Dr. Tappman nodded and went into his office followed by the woman.  
Yossarian plopped down on the sofa. His thoughts were set on the meeting now and he sighed again, this time with frustration.

Therapy went difficult this time. Yossarian left with his hands shaking and tears fluttering in his throat. The only way to relax that he managed to think of was a bar. Of course, he wasn't allowed to drink because of his medication but he didn't care at the moment. First, though, he tried to get some relief with the help of a breathing technique Dr. McKenzie taught him, but it didn't help. He thought as much.  
He struggled to find a bar for some time, but finally made his way to a small unremarkable venue.  
Inside it was just as humble. Yossarian went straight to the counter but suddenly stopped halfway. He saw a familiar face there. Dr. Tappman.  
Yossarian shaked himself and went to the counter anyway.  
The doctor saw him, of course.  
\- What a surprise, - he said. - I hope you are not here to get drunk.  
\- It was my intention, - Yossarian answered cagily. - But now, under your supervision, it won't make sense.  
\- There's a great assortment of soft beverages here, so your coming here won't be in vain.  
\- And what are you drinking?  
\- Just beer, nothing special, - the doctor said awkwardly.  
\- I forgive you, - Yossarian said generously and called the bartender to order some soda.

Dr. Tappman finally got the chance to talk to Yossarian some more, and Yossarian, of course, enjoyed it plenty. In fifteen minutes they went from a formal conversation to calling each other by their first names, and started to discuss anything that came to their minds. Yossarian was especially chaotic in picking topics, desperately wanting to learn everything about Dr. Tappman (or, as from now on, Albert).  
As it was getting late, newfound friends decided to call it a day. Yossarian volunteered to walk the doctor home and lied that he lived nearby.  
Then they arrived, they were ready to shake hands and say goodbye, but Albert might have been a little tipsy, and Yossarian might have been very desperate, so a handshake turned into a friendly hug.  
But in a couple of seconds, they didn't pull away. After some more time it should have become awkward, but it didn't. Yossarian got a bit scared but then their heads shifted easily and almost naturally, and they kissed.

He heard humming and muffled screeching. Voices. Screaming, even. He saw nothing, except for some red flashes.  
Yossarian sat up abruptly in his bed. He was gasping and probably crying, he couldn’t tell.  
Suddenly, a hand touched his elbow.  
\- Hey, - a soft voice said. - It’s okay.  
Reality came back to him. He turned around and saw Albert’s figure, slightly glowing in the dark.  
\- It’s okay, - Albert said again. - You can relax.  
Yossarian fell back. Albert gently put his hand onto Yossarian’s chest.  
\- Try to breathe slowly. Make my hand go up and down.  
To Yossarian’s surprise, it helped. He wiped tears and looked Albert in the eyes.  
\- Thank you.  
\- Don’t worry. I’m always ready to help. As a friend though, not as a therapist.  
\- A friend? - Yossarian asked suspiciously.  
\- Or something more, as you wish, - Albert answered and took Yossarian hand in his, entwining their fingers.


	2. Save me from myself

Coming soon (I hope)!


End file.
